


a pair of idiots

by eloboosting



Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: Gen, trying not to cry over the ge/rox tigers in 2017 and failing, trying to depict feelings and failing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 05:24:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10892595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eloboosting/pseuds/eloboosting
Summary: With a huff, Jongin chomped down on a drumstick. “Yeah, well, that makes you even more stupid, staying with me.”“A pair of idiots, then.” Beomhyun smiled. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”





	a pair of idiots

**Author's Note:**

> I saw the reunion pics, watched a few of the vids, and out came a whole load of musings on gorilla, ~~you're welcome~~ sorry.

There were times when Beomhyun wished he had taken a different path.

Idle thoughts of what ifs—what if he hadn’t gone pro, had lived a comfortable, normal life? What if he’d joined a different team, befriended different teammates, would he have found the same success?

What if he’d mained a different role, hadn’t destroyed his wrists, tried harder and won more trophies, would he have a better chance of fielding offers than he did now? Three Worlds appearances, four LCK finals, a LCK championship under his belt, and he was still struggling to find teams willing to give him a chance.

Beomhyun couldn’t even really blame them; who would want an aging support with bad wrists anyway?

 

“You’re a dumbass,” Jongin told him. “And so are the teams who aren’t kneeling at your feet trying to recruit you.”

Beomhyun laughed airily, pulling on his usual good humor like he would a comfortable sweater. “Not every support can be Mata.” That came off a little too bitter, so he tried again, “And I certainly can’t live up to the Most Valuable Pray.”

If anything, Jongin looked even more irritated at the comment. “How could I play like that without you?” He jerked his head before Beomhyun could respond. “Stay with me,” he said, sounding embarrassed. “It’d be too annoying to build synergy with another support.”

Beomhyun knew the kind of offers Jongin had on the table, lucrative deals with teams that already had a support or certainly wouldn’t want to spend the money on _him_ , and he—

He could never be selfish enough to take those away, had no intention of being added baggage riding on Jongin’s success.

As the days toward the next season had counted down and his own career prospects dwindled, it had become harder and harder to put a smile on his face. But he had struggled through, and he would do the same now, patting Jongin on the shoulder lightly. “You’re too generous, but it’s fine—I don’t need to monopolize your amazing skills any longer,” he said, pretending to swoon. “You’re an easy ADC to play with, I’m sure any support will adapt quickly.”

Jongin frowned. “Stop that,” he snapped. “I don’t want another support.”

Beomhyun stumbled over that verbal obstacle for all of a second before he recovered. “You’ve retired once already, think about your future.”

“Worry about your _own_ future, you selfless masochist.” Jongin looked away. “Look, I get it, you’re an independent support who doesn’t need some shitty, washed-up ADC to save you, but—” His tone softened. “You always worry about everyone else. Just—I’m your hyung, you can lean on me this time, okay? Where I go, you go.”

Beomhyun didn’t know how to react, mind stuttering to a stop, but his body moved on without him. He had honestly thought he’d run out of tears with the amount of crying he’d done in the past few weeks—losing Worlds, losing his team, losing his friends and his home of the past two years—lost in the wave of choked, silent sobs in the shower or his bedroom, anywhere he could be alone.

He wiped his face with an arm, while Jongin pointedly kept looking away, awkward and embarrassed as he was whenever he did something serious or meaningful. “You’re a nice guy,” he said, and Jongin only flushed slightly when Beomhyun threw his arms around him and clung.

  
-

The Tigers had always had a reputation for being loud, from their obnoxious singing during breaks between matches to their yelling and shouting in game. It was an organized sort of chaos, warm and familiar to Beomhyun that made him think _home_ even when Jongin and Kyungho were arguing about who _truly_ deserved MVP of their latest series of games or when Wangho was idly stabbing Seohaeng in the back with his pointy fingers while nagging him about food. And Jongin _was_ right at the heart of it, screaming at the scary videos viewers sent him on stream, complaining about his teammates in solo queue, nagging at Beomhyun to duo with him so they could both escape elo hell.

But after they lost to Kongdoo, after they’d lost all hope of making playoffs—Jongin was unnaturally quiet. There was no yelling, no noisy crying, just the tired silence and acceptance of the damned.

It was a Jongin he was unused to, and certainly not one he knew how to fix.

He was left feeling vaguely off-center, a pit in his stomach that wouldn’t go away. He’d never missed playoffs before, and even if the only difference was an extended break, the extra time felt honey-thick and slow, each moment passing by in slow motion.

He lost, _they’d_ lost; couldn’t even make it into the top six, beaten by their old team, even as it stands now as a hollow shell filled with new names.

 

“Why do I feel so empty?” he ended up asking Wangho, not even sure where the question bubbled from but now it was out in the open and there was nothing he could do to take it back. He backtracked to try and keep the conversation light and easy, but Wangho caught it anyway.

“Sometimes it happens that way, hyung,” Wangho said, and somehow that made it even worse. (And of course it became a meme, because if there was anything fans were good at, it was ignoring feelings under the guise of fond mockery.)

 

It took him two days more before he broke, at one of their outings at a BBQ Chicken where Jongin had made the same terrible joke he always did about supporting the enemy.

“Do you regret taking me with you?” he asked, bracing himself for the worst. “With your skills, you could have—”

Jongin sighed noisily, pushing the plate of chicken closer to Beomhyun. “You’ve been agonizing about this all break, haven’t you? You’re such a worrywart.” He flicked Beomhyun’s forehead with a hand. “Losing sucks, yeah? But—I don’t regret playing with you.” He slapped a hand on the table, forceful enough to set their basket of chicken tumbling. “We’re the best fucking bot lane in the world, and we’ll prove it this summer.”

Beomhyun laughed, couldn’t help it when his anxiety was practically evaporating off his shoulders and replaced with delirious relief. “You’re an idiot,” he said fondly, watching Jongin hurriedly scooping the chicken back into place.

With a huff, Jongin chomped down on a drumstick. “Yeah, well, that makes you even more stupid, staying with me.”

“A pair of idiots, then.” Beomhyun smiled. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

-

Just like the formation of the Tigers in 2015, the basis of their reunion in 2017 centered on Hojin. He’d been the one with the contacts and the ideas two years back, and now he was a neutral party, not affiliated with any team and taking it easy as a streamer. So his spending time with Kyungho became an unofficial reunion of the GE Tigers, until they’d eaten and drunk enough that Kyungho wouldn’t be too bitter about Wangho’s presence.

“Next split, I’ll take you down,” Kyungho yelled at Wangho, his one and last reference to the disaster playoffs had been, sweeping a microphone off the couch and dragging Seohaeng with him onto the makeshift stage. The song he selected was unsurprisingly dramatic, in a range that Kyungho couldn’t properly reach but didn’t care, and Beomhyun laughed along with the rest of them when Kyungho finally gave up matching the tune, instead forcing Seohaeng to dance with him.

“Did you even request this song?” Hojin yelled up at him, and Kyungho easily flipped him off, voice finally smoothing out with the chorus.

Wangho didn’t even seem affected by the comment, snatching up a tambourine and slapping it against his hand, cheering loudly enough to almost drown out the music.  Maybe it was to be expected, Wangho had never been one to hold grudges anyway, and even now seemed gracious enough to let Kyungho’s comment go—or maybe it was due to the two bottles of soju he’d downed because of Kyungho’s badgering. Either way, it was less headache for the rest of them.

“I know he can’t sing, but is he tone-deaf as well?” Jongin asked slumping back into his seat. “Fuck, if this goes on any longer my head’s going to explode.”

“You don’t mean that,” Beomhyun said easily. “You love it when he cheers you on, and you sing just as badly.”

Jongin’s gaze slid toward him, eyes narrowing into a glare. “Traitor,” he accused. “You’ve drunk too much.”

He shrugged. “Maybe I have.” He laughed, although it came out more as a giggle. “But it’s a nice night to drink, don’t you think?”

Jongin glanced back over to the stage, where Kyungho was now toppling over, nearly tipping him and Seohaeng off the edge of the stage. “Yeah,” he said dubiously. “Sure.”

 

“He’s all yours,” Kyungho said cheerfully, patting Jongin’s chest, “We can take this brat home, don’t worry.”

Beomhyun looked up blearily, finding Wangho giggling while being held up by Seohaeng and Hojin. “Take care of hyung!” Wangho shouted, “He’s druuunk~”

Seohaeng sighed, longsuffering yet fond. “So are you, dumbass.”

“Hey, let’s get him on stream.” Hojin pinched one of Wangho’s cheeks. “I’ve always wanted to meet kkoma.”

And Beomhyun was drunk, but not drunk enough to let that go. “I can’t believe I’m saying this,” he said, raising an arm and flopping it onto Kyungho’s shoulder. “But I’m relying on you to keep him safe.”

Kyungho threw him a sloppy salute. “Of course, hyung.” He turned to Jongin with a smirk. “And good luck to you, hyung.”

“Leave before I hit you,” Jongin growled, and Kyungho danced away with a laugh.

“Till next time!” Kyungho called back, hooking his arm through Seohaeng’s and dragging them down the street.

 

It didn't take Jongin long to flag down a cab, and even less so for him to manhandle Beomhyun into it, easily tossing out their team house address to the cab driver.

“That was fun.” Beomhyun said. “What a successful reunion.”

“A group of rowdy drunkards,” Jongin said, and then, “A gathering of stray tigers.”

Beomhyun glared over at him. “Hojin’s cheerful as always, and Seohaeng looks settled in,” he said instead of replying. “And Kyungho doesn’t look too disappointed. Even Wangho isn’t bragging too much—he’s getting so mature.”

Jongin yawned. “Punks, all of them.” And Beomhyun couldn’t help but laugh.

“Don’t say that.” He rested his head against Jongin’s shoulder, pausing for a moment. “We’re okay, too, right?”

Jongin shrugged, hand wrapping around Beomhyun’s tightly. “Of course.” He turned to Beomhyun, grin cocky and bright. “I’m the Most Valuable Pray, after all.”

**Author's Note:**

> and then they kiss. rly. believe me.


End file.
